


The Boy Next Door (the knight in shining armor)

by Laylah



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: His childhood best friend looks up andbeamsat the sight of him. "Lancey! Or, wait, should I call you sir now?""No," Lancelot decides immediately, even though that's probably not really correct protocol. "Please don't." He's returning Vane's grin just as easily as he always has, his heart lighter just from seeing Vane's face. "Are you through for the day? Would you like to go get dinner and catch up?"
Relationships: Lancelot/Vane (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	The Boy Next Door (the knight in shining armor)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marshmallows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallows/gifts).



When this year's new group of knights are inducted, Lancelot is away from the capital on patrol, taking a squad through the mountains, so he doesn't get to meet the new recruits right away. Siegfried mentioned that one of them came from his hometown, and there aren't too many people back home who'd be the right age, but he still doesn't put two and two together. It's been a long month! That's his only excuse.

Not until he's watching the new recruits go through their drills on the training ground, and at the end of the training session this tall, broad-shouldered axeman—a guy with the kind of pure physical confidence, even as a new recruit, that makes Lancelot itch for a chance to spar with him—takes off his practice helm and shakes his head like a happy retriever, and _Lancelot knows that face_.

"Vane?" he blurts out.

His childhood best friend looks up and _beams_ at the sight of him. "Lancey! Or, wait, should I call you sir now?"

"No," Lancelot decides immediately, even though that's probably not really correct protocol. "Please don't." He's returning Vane's grin just as easily as he always has, his heart lighter just from seeing Vane's face. "Are you through for the day? Would you like to go get dinner and catch up?"

"Can I do that?" Vane asks. He looks from Lancelot over to the sergeant in charge. "Is that allowed?"

"Ah—" The sergeant looks off-balance for a moment but then straightens his spine as he recognizes Lancelot. "Of course, vice-captain, sir."

"Thanks," Lancelot says. He waits while Vane goes to change out of the heavy training armor, and once Vane comes back they head out together, falling into step as if they've never been apart.

"Vice-captain, huh?" Vane says as they head out. "Here I thought I was finally catching up to you, but it turns out I still have a long way to go."

"I don't know, it looks to me like you've been doing pretty well lately." When Lancelot left for the capital, Vane was still as he had been throughout their childhood: shorter, unimposing, prone to losing his composure over small hurts and frights. But now... Despite Lancelot having one last growth spurt as a knight cadet, Vane seems to be the taller of them, and he fills out the homespun shirt he's wearing with enough muscle to put Lancelot's own slenderness to shame. "You look great."

"Aw, thanks." Vane grins. "I bet you say that to all the boys."

Lancelot sputters a protest and Vane's laughter rings through the street around them, bright and warm as sunshine. It's so good to see him again.

They go to a pub in the castle town, a homey, unglamorous place that mostly serves commoners, not noble knights. The food is comforting, the ale is strong, and the company can't be beat. Vane seems instantly at home there—joking with their waiter, delighted by the food, a source of light and warmth himself that Lancelot can barely look away from for a moment. 

Over dinner they trade stories about what they've been up to since Lancelot came to the capital, which is mostly stories about patrols and drills on Lancelot's part, with asides about how impressive Captain Siegfried is. Vane tells him the news from back home—most excitingly, old Marian's barn cat had a litter of odd-eyed kittens—and glosses over his own training as though it were easy instead of the grueling test it must have been to make him the most promising of this year's new recruits.

By the time they've finished their meal Lancelot is giddy with happiness, and a little of that is the ale but the lion's share is Vane, at his side, walking in step with him as they climb the hill back to the castle. "Really, though," he's saying as they come around one long bend in the road, "out of all the knights practicing there, you were _definitely_ the one I wanted to spar with the most. So keep that in mind, right? You're first-rate, is what I mean."

"And you," Vane says, "are really cute when you're tipsy."

"I am not," Lancelot retorts automatically. "Kittens are cute. Knights have to be serious and dignified and maybe _handsome_ , but not cute."

Vane shakes his head. "You got nothing to worry about. You're already a great knight."

He's so sweet and honest and it's so good to see him, Lancelot just wants to hug him. And maybe he is just the smallest bit tipsy, because instead of just thinking that he acts on it, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Vane's shoulders. Vane actually _squeaks_ in surprise. "What, it's true!" he says, hugging back, and his arms are so warm and solid and he smells like steel from the training grounds and like the pine forests back home, and Lancelot doesn't know how he's ever going to let go.

Vane doesn't seem to be in any hurry either, his hands wandering over Lancelot's back, his face buried in Lancelot's hair. Lancelot's heart swells. He's always been happiest with Vane at his side, and now their closeness floods his body with a new heat: every passing fancy he's had about one of his fellow knights, every idle thought that led to heated dreams, would have been so much more compelling with Vane. This is exactly where he wants to be.

When he pulls back far enough to look Vane in the eyes, the expression he sees there is just as fond and hopeful as he feels. "Is this going where it looks like?" Vane asks. "Because I have done no training for that at all, but you're pretty much the best, so—"

Lancelot kisses him. Kissing people to make them stop talking sounds suave and worldly in books but it turns out it just feels clumsy and wet in person. And then Vane is laughing at him. But also still holding on, so they can keep trying, and after a few sloppy passes and one jarring moment where their teeth click together, they get it: lips sealed together, tongues sparring, head tilted at just enough of an angle to make noses not get in the way. It's wonderful.

Lancelot's breathless by the time they break apart. Vane grins at him, shaking his head. "This is the worst time to have just moved into a barracks with a dozen other guys."

"Fortunately," Lancelot says, "it's the _best_ time to be an officer with your own room."

Vane looks delighted. Lancelot's heart skips a beat. "Lead the way, oh vice-captain."

Lancelot doesn't need to be told twice. He leads the way back to the castle, to the outer wing that houses the Order of the Black Dragons. The officers' rooms are on the floor above the enlisted knights', and Lancelot counts himself lucky they don't run into any junior knights on the way—or, worse yet, Percival, who would no doubt have plenty of "constructive" suggestions for how Lancelot might be spending his free time.

His room is a mess, which happens sort of too much, but he distracts Vane with more kissing and that solves the problem for now. Vane's hands thread into his hair to hold onto him, and Lancelot hooks his fingers in Vane's waistband in return, and the closer they hold each other the more Lancelot enjoys Vane's new physique. He just feels so _good_ , solid and warm, and all Lancelot wants is more of this.

When he slips his hands up underneath the hem of Vane's shirt, Vane takes a small step back. "Here, why don't I make that a little easier?" he says, tugging it right off and tossing it aside. "How's that?"

"You've always had good ideas," Lancelot says, starting on the buttons of his vest.

Kissing with their shirts off is good, but being able to get closer still would be better, which means in another minute they're kicking their boots off and falling into Lancelot's bed together, and _that_ means that when Vane rolls them over and grinds his hips down it's really obvious they're both hard. Lancelot wraps his arms tighter around Vane's back and rocks up into him in return, shivering at the heat that runs through him.

With anyone else he might worry that this was moving too fast, but it's Vane, who was at his side for every adventure growing up, whom he's missed constantly since joining the Order, who feels _right_ no matter what. Another few rounds of grinding like that and Lancelot's tugging at the waistband of Vane's pants. "Can we?"

"Yes _please_ ," Vane says, and nearly gets Lancelot in the ribs with one elbow as they both scramble to get the rest of their clothes off. Lancelot reaches for him again, hungry to touch, but Vane says, "Wait a sec, can I—can I see?"

Lancelot blushes—he doesn't feel like he's that impressive to look at, when no amount of training seems to put more muscle on his frame—but he nods, putting a little more space between them to let Vane have a look. 

"Wow, Lancey, you're just... you're just gorgeous," Vane says, soft and awed and so sincere Lancelot hardly knows what to do with himself.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself," he says. Vane's shoulders have grown so broad, and he's so _solid_ , and then at his navel there's a fine trail of golden hair leading down to the thick, heavy shaft of his cock, which looks even more impressive than it felt when they still had their pants on... "But I'm not sure I have the patience to just look for long."

Vane's smile is even better in bed. "Well, as much as I like the view, I don't want to make you wait," he says, reaching out, and Lancelot slides back into his arms.

The first touch of warm skin on skin, his cock sliding against Vane's hip, makes Lancelot moan. He pulls Vane as close as he can, their bodies pressed together from chest to thigh as they lie side by side. Vane kisses him, deep and hungry now that they have each other's measure, and the friction as his hips roll against Lancelot's is wonderful.

But still Lancelot wants more; all the feelings he hadn't quite known what to do with around the other knights are finally so clear and so urgent now. He leaves one arm wrapped around Vane's shoulders to keep him close and reaches down with the other to take hold of his cock: thicker than his own, warm and so velvety smooth in his hand. Vane's back arches and he groans with pleasure, pushing into Lancelot's hand.

And then, because he's never wanted to just sit back and let someone else do all the work, he gets his hand around Lancelot's shaft in return, and it's Lancelot's turn to make desperate noises. His calluses are perfect and his hand is so big and it feels amazing.

It's a lot like kissing, it turns out. Their first few tries are a little clumsy, getting in each other's way, but then they get the rhythm of it and can rock together, touching each other, holding each other close. Vane's head is tucked against Lancelot's shoulder and his breath comes in short hot gasps against Lancelot's throat, and Lancelot has his face buried in Vane's hair, breathing him in and so glad to have him there. 

At the peak of one stroke Lancelot's thumb finds a little streak of wetness, and his own cock aches in response. "Getting close?" he murmurs, and Vane nods frantically. "Me too, feels so good."

Vane makes a needy, low sound. "I can't believe I get to make you come," he says, like it's an honor, when actually it's just the thing Lancelot wants most in the world right now, the heat and friction just right—and maybe Vane wanting him so much is the thing that finishes him off, makes him shiver and arch and spill into the space between them.

Some of it gets on his hand, just thanks to how close they are, but that just makes his next stroke slicker and Vane moans, bucking into his hand. "Yeah," Lancelot says, "you too, I want to do that for you," and it's just a few more strokes before Vane's cock is pulsing in his hand, splashing hot over his hand and belly.

Lancelot's heartbeat is loud in his ears as he flops onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. "Wow," he says. "It's _really_ good to see you again."

Vane laughs. "Yeah. Really good. You sure know how to make a guy glad he joined up!"

"Not just any guy." Lancelot looks over. Vane's hair is a mess, his cheeks are pink from the excitement, and he's wearing this goofy, dreamy smile that Lancelot thinks he would probably move mountains for. "The best friend I've ever had."

"Yeah." Vane reaches over, takes his hand, and gives it a good squeeze. "Well, you're never going to get rid of me now."

Lancelot laces their fingers together. "I can live with that." He's pretty sure Vane will want to clean up before long, but for now, he's going to just hold on tight.


End file.
